


Teach Your Children Well

by MorticiaYouSpokeFrench



Category: Addams Family - All Media Types, Addams Family - Fandom, Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 07:16:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21157736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorticiaYouSpokeFrench/pseuds/MorticiaYouSpokeFrench
Summary: When Rumpelstiltskin's daughter Morticia needs assistance, help comes in the form of a princess, wishing to save her land from ogres.





	Teach Your Children Well

**Author's Note:**

> Another Addams Family crossover. They're just so much fun!
> 
> The title is taken from the song by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young.

It was a beautiful day- foggy, and with a slight drizzle of rain, when Rumpelstiltskin's daughter walked into the kitchen for breakfast with a big announcement.

"Wonderful news, Father. I am dying."

Rumpelstiltskin scrutinized her. She was as pale as a corpse and there were dark circles under her eyes. He took her hand in his. It was deathly cold. "You seem perfectly healthy to me, my darling, what makes you say that?"

"I am bleeding profusely, though I have no visible injury to speak of. Surely that is the symptom of a serious and life-threatening disease."

"I don't see any blood." Rumple said dumbly, feeling a bit nervous, but not yet at the point of panicking.

"I'm not bleeding anywhere visible, but I did notice it when I went to the bathroom this morning." She looked positively delighted. "Surely I shall not last long losing such profuse amounts of blood."

"Oh, oh that." Rumpelstiltskin nearly sighed with relief. "Morticia, my rotten cabbage leaf, have I never told you of- well, no, I suppose I wouldn't have. Oh dear."

"Father? Do you know what is wrong with me?"

"Yes, my dear, only- Ugh, this is a trifle awkward. See, circumstances like these are why little girls need a mother. Why your mother decided on the verge of death that I would be the best person to take care of you, I'll never know. Darling, you're not going to die. You are experiencing what every girl does around this age. It means your body is now capable of bearing a child. From now on you will bleed once a month unless you are pregnant."

"Oh." Morticia drooped, she was practically radiating disappointment. Poor child, getting her hopes up.

"Don't be disappointed, my sweet," he told her "It is not all bad. I hear that these episodes are excruciatingly painful. And there will be an awful lot of blood. You have that to look forward to every month for years to come! This should be a happy occasion!"

"A bit messy, though." Morticia mused.

"Nonsense!" Rumple cried "There are plenty of ways to stem the blood flow and keep it from getting on everything. Now, if I only knew how the women do it, I've never bothered to do research on the subject."

"Maybe I should just walk around trailing blood everywhere." Morticia suggested "I believe it would add a certain grandeur to the atmosphere."

Rumple shuddered. "No, no. I'll tell you what- I've recently gotten a call for help from a distant kingdom. They were having ogre problems if I'm not mistaken. Considering they offered me gold for my services, I felt no desire to respond to their pleas, but perhaps I could ask that in return for my help they send a nice young woman over to help you with your feminine troubles. Yes, that'll do."

And so he put on his most dashing cloak, befitting of a meeting with a ruler, and set off to find some feminine assistance for his daughter.

* * *

"My price," declared the man, if he was a man, "is her!" and he pointed at Belle. He did have quite the flair for dramatics, didn't he? Not quite what Belle had expected when she imagined the Dark One.

Gaston immediately stepped between her and the beast, as if he could shield her from him. For once, she was slightly grateful for the overprotective ass. "The young lady is engaged." He said, "To me."

This did not impress the Dark One. "I wasn't asking if she was engaged." His high voice ended with a giggle, "I'm not looking for _love_. I merely need her for a job that requires a woman's hm- _special touch_."

"Out of the question!" Her father declared, seething with anger. But, in the end, Belle put her foot down. She would not let her people down and allow her subjects to be killed simply because she couldn't endure an unpleasantness that she would have to endure with Gaston soon anyway.

He giggled with glee when she announced that she would go with him. "Deal!"

"Congratulations on your little war!" He called out to her father, guiding Belle out of the room. "Oh, and don't worry about her. You can have her back in a couple of hours once I'm done with her!"

The door slammed behind them, blocking out the sounds of Gaston's protests.

* * *

"Welcome to my home!" The Dark One said grandly, gesturing widely at the room they had appeared in, in a puff of smoke.

"I like it," Belle said sincerely, "It's very interesting." The room was quite cluttered but had its own cozy charm, and there were fascinating objects in every nook and cranny. In the corner were a pair of puppets with grotesque faces, and right above them the head of a moose was mounted on the wall, one of its antles askew. An old wand lay on a dusty red pillow that was placed on the back of a huge stuffed tortoise with two heads.

"My daughter helped me decorate." The Dark One replied proudly.

"You have a daughter?" Belle asked, surprised.

"Ah, yes, that brings me to the reason I hired your help." The Dark One replied and gestured to an old chair, "Here, have a seat."

Belle began to walk over to the chair but was stopped in her tracks by a growl. Looking down, she realized that she had stepped on the bearskin rug that lay on the floor and that the bear was growling at her.

"Oh, I'm awfully sorry!" She apologized to it and leaned down to give its head a pat.

The bear sighed and closed its eyes, and Belle decided that she was forgiven. She walked carefully around the bear rug and sat on the chair the Dark One had indicated.

The Dark One was staring at her oddly. "Your daughter?" She prompted him.

"Ah, yes. She has recently gotten her first- hm, that is- she had just become a woman- no, that's not right. She is still my little girl. It's just- she's bleeding!"

"That's perfectly normal," Belle told him, biting back a smile at how dark his cheeks had gone.

"I know it is!" He snapped back at her, "It's just that- there is no woman in the house. I was raised without a mother, and I must admit to some ignorance on the matter of how it is dealt with. I need you to speak with my daughter and explain to her how you women deal with such matters."

"It would be my pleasure." Belle replied, feeling slightly relieved. She had been prepared to sleep with the Dark One in order to save the kingdom, but that didn't mean that she especially wanted to. Even if he was good looking in his own strange way.

"I'm a little mad at you." She told the Dark One mildly, after a moment. "You made me think I was going to have to bed you in order to save my kingdom."

He seemed taken aback by that. Maybe, being the Dark One, he wasn't used to being criticized. Belle didn't see why, though, he was much less scary than the fairy tales had make her expect.

"I'm sorry." he finally said to her, sounding truly repentant. "The drawback of being the Dark One, I suppose, is that you can't make any innocent innuendos without being taken seriously. I didn't mean to scare or intimidate you."

"That's alright." Belle said placidly. "I wasn't really that scared. I'm going to have to do it soon anyways, since I'm betrothed to Gaston. And if I was going to be losing my virginity to someone I didn't love anyways, I would rather do it to save my people rather than for the sake of some contract my father signed. I didn't mind all that much."

"Yes," the Dark One said, "But you were betrothed to a handsome knight. Not-" he gestured at himself- "a monster."

Belle shrugged. "You're very friendly for a monster, actually," she told him. "I'm happy to help."

The Dark One looked dumbfounded for a moment, but finally said: "Good, then I'll show you to her room."

Morticia was a beautiful girl, but very pale. She didn't look a thing like her father.

"Morticia, my beloved stinkweed, this is Belle. Belle, my daughter, Morticia," the Dark One introduced them.

"It's very lovely to meet you Morticia," said Belle "I must say, though, that I cannot see any family resemblance."

"Morticia is not of my blood," he replied. "Her mother was a witch, and was about to be burned at the stake when she summoned me. She made me a deal, and I promised her that I would take care of her baby. I have had her with me ever since."

"Father says that it was the best deal he ever made." Morticia piped up.

"What did her mother give you in return?" Belle asked curiously.

"No more procrastinating, deary!" the Dark One snapped. "You're here to do a job. Morticia, ask her anything you want to know. Excuse me, ladies, I have work to do." And he was gone with a snap of his fingers and a cloud of smoke.

"He could have just told me that it was none of my business," Belle mused, bewildered, but she quickly turned to her charge and set about her mission.

She explained to Morticia how to maintain her hygiene and manage the bother that was one's monthly courses as well as possible, and tried to proceed on to an explanation of how to manage the pain one experienced during such a time. Morticia, though, seemed bewildered by the idea that she would want to avoid pain, so Belle was forced to drop the subject.

What Morticia really wanted to hear about was if Belle ever used the blood in dark magical rituals, and Belle was sorry to have such a disappointing answer.

"I'm sorry, Morticia, I really don't know anything about dark magic rituals, or ever about magic at all. Now that I think of it, though, I did read the book once in which the blood of an enemy, unwillingly taken, was used in a dark ritual to give a spirit a body. I suppose that wasn't really what you had in mind, though. Oh, I do think I read once about virgin blood sacrifices being used to appease an angry god. That one might have also included killing the virgin, though, I'm not sure. I also read a mystery book once in which the heroine discovered a pentagram drawn in blood on the floor of an old castle, but that book was meant to be sensationalist rather than educational, so I'm not sure how reliable the magic described in it is."

Morticia, though, was interested in the story, and had Belle repeat it to her as best she could remember.

Rumpelstiltskin, who had been listening outside the door to make sure that the princess wasn't treating his daughter unkindly for being odd, was rather impressed. For an innocent little princess of a small duchy, she knew more about dark magic than he would have expected. Since Morticia seemed to like the girl, he decided it would only be good manners to ask her to stay for dinner.

Belle looked slightly doubtful when presented with the eye-of-newt cookies, but she bravely tried them, and admitted that they were quite tasty. None of the strange or mysterious things in the Dark Castle seemed to put her off or intimidate her, and by the end of the meal, Rumple was feeling much more relaxed and congenial than he was usually disposed to.

At the end of the meal, after Morticia had gone off to her room, Belle offered to wash the dishes, but Rumple waved her off and gestured for her to sit down. "There is one thing I would like to discuss with you, Belle, before taking you back home."

Belle sat down, and leaned toward Rumple earnestly, looking into his eyes, "What is it?"

For a brief moment, he lost his train of thought, but soon recovered it. "I don't want my daughter's existence to be known to the world at large. I have reason to be concerned about her being kidnapped and used as leverage against me, and it would not do for her to be put in any danger."

"Don't worry," Belle said earnestly, "I won't ever tell. I would never put you or Morticia in any danger."

He could, of course, cast a spell on her to make sure she couldn't speak of it, but he saw no reason not to take her at her word. So instead, he simply said, "Thank you."

"When they ask me what you had me do for you, as my part of the bargain, what should I tell them? I can't tell them the truth," Belle pointed out.

Rumple waved his hand. "Simply say I had you tend to and change the diapers of some baby I acquired on a deal. Or," he waggled his eyebrows at her, "you could tell them that I took you back to my evil lair and had my wicked, wicked way with you, thereby ruining you forever for all other men."

It was merely a quip, but to his surprise, she seemed to consider the suggestion seriously.

"That's not a bad idea," she said, smiling slyly.

"It isn't?" he squeaked.

"Gaston is positively primeval. If he thinks that his fiancé is no longer a virgin he might decide to call off the engagement."

"And that would be... a good thing?" Rumple asked.

"Definitely. He's a shallow and arrogant man, and I could never love him. Our betrothal was politically motivated."

"In that case, my dear, we have just spent the past couple of hours engaged in the most depraved and animalistic coupling ever conceived of this side of the enchanted forest. Here, allow me-" and with a flourish of his hand her perfect hairdo came undone, her hair became mussed, and her beautiful dress rumpled.

Belle giggled, examining her reflection in a nearby frying pan. "This is perfect." Then, to his shock, she hugged him. "Thank you, Rumple!"

"You're very welcome," he answered. "Thank _you_, for helping Morticia."

"It was my pleasure."

And he sent her off in a cloud of purple smoke.

He could not remember the last time he had so enjoyed the company of a person who was not his child. And he could not remember _any_ time in which he had been hugged after making a deal.

* * *

He was still feeling pleased with the events of the day a couple of hours later, when he felt the magical pull that told him that a desperate soul was trying to summon him. Focusing in on the magic, he was surprised to discover that he was being called back to the city he had left that very morning, by the girl he had sent back there not three hours earlier.

Her accent was one he wouldn't soon forget, and he immediately recognized the voice calling: "Rumpelstiltskin! I summon thee!"

For a moment, he considered playing hard to get, and waiting a bit before answering the call, but he was too curious to know what Belle could want so soon after. Besides, what if it was important?

He donned his coat, and vanished from the house a moment later in a cloud of purple smoke.

When he reappeared, it took him a moment to reorient himself. He was not in the room in which the war council had congregated earlier. The light and spacious room, decorated with a tasteful eye, were replaced with damp rough stone walls, lit by torches. A few stains on the walls and floor looked suspiciously like blood. The notion that he was in a dungeon was supported by some truly gruesome-looking metallic objects that looked very much like some of the torture implements in Morticia's collection.

Then he saw Belle. She was being restrained by two men wearing black robes with a red sigil depicting what looked like a fiery sword. A third man loomed in front of her, clutching a torch and waving it alarmingly close to her face. Rumpel couldn't hear what he was snarling at her, but it didn't sound pleasant. Belle's hair, which had only been slightly rumpled when he sent her back was now completely disheveled, and there appeared to be a bruise forming on her cheek.

The rage was overwhelming, and he could feel his lips curling into an ugly snarl. With a wave of his hand, the men were gone, and three new cockroaches graced the halls of the dungeons. His immediate impulse was to crush them under his boot one by one, or perhaps conjure a bird to eat them alive, but upon laying eyes on him, Belle gave a high, anguished cry and rushed into his arms. She was the more pressing concern, so he ignored the cockroaches for the time being, in favor of wrapping his arms around her and trying to soothe her.

It took a thought and a cloud of purple smoke to transport them back to his home. There, he set about trying to comfort her to the best of his ability, petting her hair and telling her it would be alright.

"They-" Belle gasped through heaving sobs, "They said I was a demon's whore and that my soul needed to be cleansed."

"Those vile mongrels will never hurt you again, Belle," he promised her.

Gradually, her shaking subsided, and the gulping sobs turned into sniffles. Rumple kept his arms around her, wishing to somehow physically shield her from the rest of the world.

"I don't understand," Belle finally spoke, her voice soft and sorrowful. "Father always treated the Order and the clerics with such contempt, I didn't think they had any power over him. But they must have, otherwise why would he let them take me without protest? Unless he truly just didn't care that they would have-" she couldn't seem to give voice to what they would have done, and choked out another sob.

"Politics is a dirty and complicated game, dearie," he told her. "It's impossible to guess what plans or considerations he had in mind, when allowing them to take you. I- I could try to find out for you if you wish."

She shook her head. "No thank you, at least not now. I don't want to think about him, or them, or any of it right now."

"Alright then, you don't need to," he said gently. "You can stay here, I'll protect you."

She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could they were interrupted by a small voice coming from the doorway. "Father? Belle?" it was Morticia. "I heard crying."

"Belle was upset, toadstool," Rumple told her, "I was trying to comfort her."

"What happened?" Morticia asked.

Rumple shot Belle a look, silently asking whether she would mind him speaking of it. She gave him a small nod, but hid her head in his shoulder while he answered his daughter.

"Some men of a religious order back in her home were upset over her association with me. They had taken her to be tortured and probably executed. I took her away before it could happen."

"Father!" Morticia cried reprovingly. "Just because you are fond of Belle and wish for her company, doesn't mean you can just interrupt her in the middle of her recreational activities! Look how you've upset her!"

Then she turned to Belle. "Belle, please forgive my father for his abysmal behavior. He has absolutely no manners. I think he simply missed you, you must excuse him for taking you away."

For a split second, Rumpelstiltskin feared he had made a terrible faux pas and completely misread the situation, but then Belle gave a little giggle, and sanity reasserted itself.

"It's alright, Morticia," Belle said, turning towards his daughter and smiling at her. "I actually didn't want to be tortured, so I'm very grateful to your father for getting me out of there in time."

"Oh," Morticia deflated, "I see." It was clear she didn't see, but was merely being polite for Belle's sake.

"Morticia, stinkbug, could you please give Belle and me some privacy? You can talk to her more tomorrow."

His daughter was a mature and understanding girl, and agreed without hesitation. "Alright. Goodnight father, Belle. Bitter dreams." She kissed them both on the cheek and went off to bed.

"You're a wonderful father," Belle smiled up at him, seeming cheered by the interruption. "You don't mind that she's different, or scold her for it."

"Well, dearie, I can hardly scold her for being odd. As strange as she might be, she'll never be stranger than me." He gestured at his own scaly skin, causing Belle to giggle.

"I wish my father was as understanding. He didn't like it that I read so many books. He thought I should spend less time with my head in a book and more time getting to know Gaston," she revealed.

"We have a big library here," Rumple blurted out. "Lots and lots of books."

"You know," Belle smiled coyly up at him, "we haven't yet discussed your payment for saving me. I know that magic always comes with a price." She placed a gentle hand on his chest. "So what price do you ask for, Dark One?"

Right. Of course. Payment. Rumpelstiltskin couldn't just go around doing favors to people and asking for nothing in exchange. He scrambled for something to say. "The library is very dusty, actually. This house could really use a maid. Maybe you could stay and keep house for us?"

"Oh," Belle looked disappointed. "Not what I thought you'd ask for."

"You don't have to!" he quickly reassured her. "It would hardly be fair for me to demand something you don't agree to when we never discussed the terms in advance. I just thought that you might need a place to stay, and you might enjoy the library if you-"

Belle put a hand up, cutting him off, but the smile had returned to her face. "I don't mind staying and being you house keeper if that's what you want the terms to be. I just thought maybe... That is, I wouldn't have objected if what you'd asked for as payment was a kiss. It _is_ the traditional reward for rescuing a princess from a rough spot."

For a moment, Rumpelstiltskin forgot how to speak and merely stared at her, bug-eyed. Finally, though, he found his voice. "A kiss would also be acceptable, if- if that's what you would prefer, that is."

"Acceptable?" Belle questioned, winding her hands through his hair.

"More than acceptable," he breathed, lowering his face to hers. "Far, far more."

* * *

The next morning, poor Morticia had the shock of her life.

"Father! What happened to your beautiful, scaly skin?"

**Author's Note:**

> The end. I hope you enjoyed this little bit of silliness.
> 
> Fun fact: many of the pet names Rumple uses for Morticia here, such as cabbage leaf and stinkweed, are actual terms of endearment my own dad has called me by over the years.


End file.
